The First Step
by Gariand
Summary: ONESHOT. When a young Jewish boy decides to take the first step in coming out...


Don't own South Park, and most likely never will. Man that's a depressing thought.

The First Step

The young Jewish boy sat on his bed, for how long he was not sure. He was sure though, that his brother was in his respective bedroom, either doing work or messing about on his computer. He wasn't quite ready to let his brother in on the secret he was plucking up the courage to tell his parents. Not yet anyway.

He had only just come to terms with it himself, his attraction and libido constantly struggling with common sense and teachings of the Torah. But in the end he could do nothing else but accept it. He was in love with the black haired boy in his class. And he had been, for some time. He couldn't remember exactly when he had started feeling this way, but it felt to him like forever, as if this was normal. He just thought every kid felt the way he did.

Of course, it wasn't long before his teachers, both religious and educational, began to fill his head with doubts. He spent long hours reading, finding comfort in the overcoming of various struggles that these fictional characters experienced, something he felt he would never be able to do.

He felt wrong, unclean, diseased. He heard kids in his school use such terms as "gay" or "fag" to describe things they hated. It hurt him to know, that if they knew about his feelings, that they would direct those words at him. He was already aware that his religion was a source of amusement for the others; he didn't want his sexuality to give them even more ammo to fire at him.

It wasn't that he hated girls; on the contrary, he got on well with many in his class, but he never seemed to feel any attraction towards them. Yes, he wanted to be around them; Yes, he wanted to talk and joke with them; Yes, he wanted to be emotionally close to them, but in a purely platonic way.

The thought of an old teacher gave him comfort; he smiled at the memory of Mr Garrison. Despite the fact that Mr Garrison was a complete pervert, he couldn't help but admire the guy. Not only was he able to come to terms with his sexuality (Twice!), but he always seemed so damn proud of it, and didn't allow anybody to put him down about it. The young boy couldn't help but wish that some day that he would be as comfortable with his sexuality as Mr Garrison. Maybe not flaunting it as much as he did, but as happy about himself. _One step at a time, Broflovski_, he told himself.

Finally, with that thought in mind, he raised himself off the bed. One step at a time, just take the first step, every journey begins with a first step. He cringed at these clichés forming in his head. But if they helped him finally tell his parents what he'd known for so long, then they couldn't be all bad.

"Oh shit, shit, shit".

His whispered cursing was in time with his footfalls, his mind plagued by less than favourable reactions from his parents.

He could visualise his mother now; he had seen her angry so many times before. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"_What, what, what! You're…. gay? How! How could you do this to us? Turn your back on your religion, your family? What are the people at the synagogue going to say…?"_

He closed his eyes, and half considered walking back up the stairs to his room. He mentally slapped himself for thinking of the easy way out.

"Look, it's either now or when you've got yourself a boyfriend."

Steeling himself, he trudged the rest of the way to the doorway of the family room, where his parents sat, reading. _Come on, he said to himself, they have a right to know, they have brought you up, fed you, paid for every little thing you've ever wanted… _

"Kyle, is that you?"

_Oh shit. _They must have heard him. There was no way he could back out now.

"No, Mom, it's Ike."

The youngest Broflovski stepped into the family room, in full view of both his parents. They immediately registered that something was not right, from his fearful gaze or his tense stature, no one can be sure, but they could tell that something was wrong.

"Ike, what's the matter?" said Gerald cautiously. "Did something go wrong at school today?"

Ike could barely look either of them in the eyes. Here were the people who had taken him in, when he wasn't even their flesh and blood, looked after him, generally done all things that parents should do for their kids, and more. But he realised that he had to go through with this now, because when his parents, especially his mother, realised something was up, they would not rest until they had gotten to the bottom of it. To make it worse, Ike was possibly the world's worst liar.

"Look, Mom, Dad… this isn't easy for me to say, and I can understand if you'll feel angry or upset after this…" He sat down on the sofa, looking down at his feet. Sheila reached over to squeeze his hand. Superbitch she may be, but when it came to Ike and Kyle, nothing else really seemed important. This small gesture of love made Ike feel even worse about the bombshell he was about to drop on them.

He sighed and said hastily, "Look I just need to tell you guys…" he squeezed his eyelids together, feeling tears form in between the slits. "And I don't want you thinking this is in any way your fault, okay, I just… you just have the right to know… I'm… I think I might be gay."

To Ike Broflovski, the silence that followed that statement was the longest that he had ever experienced. Staring down at his feet, he heard a slight gasp come from his right and realised that he could no longer feel his mother's hand.

_Oh shit, shit, shit. I fucked it up. They're going to throw me out. They're going to send me to a shrink. Oh shit, why couldn't I just keep my fucking mouth fucking sh…_

"Ike… this… does… does anyone else know about this?"

He looked up. Gerald had gotten out of his chair, and was kneeling in front of the sofa, mostly to offer a comforting arm to his wife, who was now sobbing quietly into his shoulder.

"I… No…No. You're the first people I've told." He was taken aback by the sight of his mother. He usually saw her angry and with looks that could kill rather than what he now saw. "Mom?" he said tentatively. "Mom, I… Mom, I'm really sorry."

Gerald however continued with the questions. Ike merely took them as they came. _If they ask questions, they are willing to talk about it. It's a good sign. Just clarify everything they want to know about._

"You say "you think"? Are you…?"

"No... I don't just think, I know… I mean… I'm sure. To be honest, I can't remember when I didn't think I was… not heterosexual."

Ike turned again to Sheila, who had by now regained some of her composure. He felt a painful sensation in his stomach; guilt.

"Mom, I… I'm really sorry. Really, I am. But I…"

For the first time in the conversation, Sheila smiled at her adopted son.

"Ike, you've nothing to be sorry for. This is just… a bit of a shock that's all, really. Haven't I always tried to teach you and your brother to be accepting?"

Ike couldn't help but grin at the memory of countless lectures_. "Don't be so close-minded!" "Don't say that sort of thing about your teacher!" "We're taking you to the Museum of Tolerance!" _

Gerald and Sheila noticed the young Canadian boy smile and in turn they both relaxed.

"So… everything's ok. I mean, is there anything else?"

Ike looked at his parents, half expecting them to turn on their words and start proclaiming that homosexuality was evil.

"Is there… anyone?"

Ike had expected this question from the start. "No, not yet" he said, half disappointed. "There's someone I like, but he's straight."

"I see."

Ike had a feeling that the questions were at an end.

"Mom, Dad, is that it? Can I…?"

"Ike," Sheila started. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. "Ike, we want you to know just… how glad we are that you were able to tell us. It must have been difficult."

"Mom, it…"

"Please, let me finish. We just want to tell you that we love you no matter what, okay? And that your sexual preferences don't make you who you are. You're still our son. Our little Ike…"

She trailed off but Ike couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude towards them.

"Thanks, that means a lot…"

Sheila embraced her son lovingly, soon followed by Gerald. Ike couldn't resist a short prayer in his head to thank God for such understanding parents.

_Later…_

"Honestly, Gerald, who'd have thought it? First Kyle, then Ike! I mean, at least we've been through it once before so…"

Gerald sighed as he listened to his wife go on.

"Sheila, if it is God's will that we have two gay sons, then the least we can do is accept it."

"I suppose so…"

Suddenly, a thought came to her.

"The school! Ike's school! It doesn't have a specific rule about homophobic behaviour!"

Gerald rolled his eyes. "Sheila, he's only just come out to us! He's not going to out himself to the whole school!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Once Sheila Broflovski got an idea in her head, she just wouldn't quit. He sighed again and replied with "mmm hmm" at every break in her voice.

_Hooray! Finished my first fanfic! Please tell me you thought it was Kyle until I actually specified. Anyway, to clear up the "black haired kid" was meant to be Fillmore but I just didn't mention it in the story. And the ending was inspired by a friend, I wanted to leave it on a relatively humorous note._


End file.
